The Conviction Of The Comrades
by wynnie the pooh
Summary: Sweets is asked to interview his friends as suspects in a crime they didn't commit.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Bones._

**

* * *

The Conviction Of The Comrades**

I was approached by a man in a dark blue suit with a light blue tie and navy shoes. His hair was parted neatly to one side, and he had some kind of cellphone headset attached to his ear. This was a trademark I had always associated with authority figures. And man, was he an authority figure. Apparently, he was a research agent for an authority that dealt with bogus police work. And they were interested in the partnership between the FBI and the Jeffersonian - the particular relationship that I had counseled on many times - and particularly, the skeleton that had been found at the Jeffersonian Institutes Medico-Legal lab.

I knew about the skeleton. Daisy had told me about it. Daisy was the one who had found it. I was really proud of her, and she was really proud of herself too, because she didn't freak out like she normally did. The self-control classes I'd been putting her through seemed to be working. Instead, she handed the skeleton over to Dr Brennan, and they started work on identification immediately.

The problem was... this person, according to the records, had already been identified, and cause of death (unlisted) had also been determined. And Daisy found it in Limbo.

According to the authority figure who approached me, an identified body should never be in Limbo. Limbo is bone storage, for skeletons who have yet to be worked upon, when no immediate threat is seen.

According to the authority figure, an identified skeleton in Limbo would mean that there is a cover-up somewhere within the Jeffersonian.

According to the authority figure, that cover-up was somewhere within Dr Saroyan's forensic team. As in, Dr Brennan, and Dr Hodgins, and Angela, and that muslim dude. What's his name? Vazaro? No, that sounds Italian. Vaziri? Vaziri, that's it. Daisy would have been a suspect too, because her and Vaziri were the two grad students who were on duty at the time the skeleton was apparently identified. But Daisy had found the skeleton and brought it to the attention of the police, so she was in the clear.

And that was why they asked me to interview everyone else.

I totally didn't want to do it. Trust me, if I could have said no, I totally would have. Except, the authority figure was an authority figure. And apparently, my moral development is still in the conventional level. Particularly, the _good boy/nice girl stage. _But _sor-ee _for wanting some praise around here! I never get praise! I deserved some praise. And thus, I consented.

* * *

_'Agent Booth, what made you become an FBI agent?'_

_'Haven't we gone through this before, Sweets?'_

_'Yes, but this is for the official record. What made you become an FBI agent?'_

_'I killed people in war. According to Bones, I'm redeeming myself.'_

_'And according to you?'_

_'Sweets, all I want is to avoid going to hell.'_

_'What about Parker? You obviously must want something for your son.'_

_'Not literally! I meant, the only thing I want from being an FBI agent is to go to heaven. I'd do anything for Parker! You know that! And that's a totally different issue.'_

_'So, are you saying that you would save your son, even if it meant you would go to hell?'_

_'Sure, what the heck! Yes, I'd go to hell for Parker.'

* * *

_

I thought this was going to be easy and over with in a few hours. All I had to do was interview everyone, record the interviews, and draw a conclusion that they couldn't possibly have hidden the skeleton, because psychologically they couldn't. Easy, right? Apparently not. Apparently Booth had to have a son.

Yes, the one barrier standing in my way was the fact that every person I interviewed had a sure reason why they would, if in the right circumstances, hide the skeleton. Shit.

* * *

_'Dr Brennan, you have been called a "cool" and "calculated" individual. You have, in your own father's murder trial, resorted to placing yourself in the position to murder the FBI director Robert Kirby, and were believable enough in this role for the jury to let your father walk free. Can you see, because of this cold nature that you seem to inadvertently show to others, why you may be considered as a suspect in the cover-up of this skeleton that Miss Wick found in bone storage?'_

_'Definitely. It's easily understandable why I would be a suspect, and my knowledge of the law helps me to understand that telling you I am innocent will not minimize the suspicion upon me, but I must tell you: I am innocent. I did not place that skeleton in bone storage despite the knowledge of who the person was and what he died of.'_

_'But you do know who it is, don't you? Would you like to state his name for the record?'_

_'Darius Meals.'_

_'And how did he die?'_

_'By a gunshot wound to the left parietal bone. Classic suicide, except bone markers indicate the man was right handed. Dr Saroyan and I determined that the death was a faked suicide.'_

_'Why did you leave research of the bone?'_

_'There was no evidence that we could find to indicate who the killer was. Booth was searching into possible suspects, and we had laid out the skeleton in a side room while we worked on identifying bones from bone storage. Booth hadn't got back to us with any information, and we had pushed the skeleton from our thoughts. We intended to come back to him if Booth found anything from his searches, when Miss Wick pulled a box from bone storage. It was the skeleton.'_

_'How did you determine this?'_

_'We compared to photographs I had taken of the gunshot wound, and the micro-fractures radiating from the wound matched. Angela ran the image and the skeleton Miss Wick found through the computer and it came up as a match.'_

_'So the important question is, why was the skeleton in bone storage, when according to you, you had placed it in a side room for later examination.'_

_'I don't know. There is no conclusive evidence to support any hypothesis, but I have made an intuitive leap to believe that someone accidentally placed it in bone storage when returning a skeleton we could not identify.'_

_'Could that person have been you?'_

_'If you are talking about my abilities, definitely not. I would not confuse skeletons, especially considering the bones that we were examining from bone storage were all that of females.'_

_'But it could have happened.'_

_'I had the means and opportunity, yes.'

* * *

_

'Sir Lancelot, what's wrong?' Daisy asked me, like she often did, especially when I was working on some case that was making me moody. She didn't like to see me moody, and she was likely the majority of girls in thinking that she must be the cause. 'Was it something I said?'

'It wasn't something you said,' I replied to her, sitting down on the sofa and putting me feet up on the coffee table.

'What is it then?' She came and sat down beside me, her body turned towards me, her face filled with worry.

'Nothin'.'

'It's not nothing. Tell me.'

'The Man. The people in authority who force us to conform to their beliefs and opinions. Everyone who tries to make me do my job the way they want me to.'

'Is this about the skeleton?'

I sighed. 'Less about the skeleton, and more about the cops that want me to evaluate the psychological capabilities of my friends.'

'Oh,' she said. She laid a hand on my arm, and my muscles which were previously tense loosened slightly beneath her touch. 'I'm sorry. I should never have found it.'

'No, if you didn't find it, it would come up even later, and then we'd be in even deeper trouble than we are now.'

'But maybe they wouldn't have asked you to do the evaluation.'

'Yeah, maybe.' I didn't really believe her, but her words were comforting nonetheless. Having your fiance trying to make you feel better was always comforting.

'Are you sure you don't want me to open a bottle of vintage Pinot Noir?'

'I'm sure.'

She kissed my cheek before standing up and making her way towards our bedroom.

'Hey, Daisy!' I called after her.

'Yes, Lance?' her voice was quiet, slightly sad, probably because I was refusing to open up to her.

'I love you, okay?'

'I love you, too.'

* * *

_'You and Angela are getting along again, right?'_

_'When did we not get along together?'_

_'When you broke up, for one.'_

_'Oh, yeah, that.'_

_'So would you say your relationship is taking a turn for the better?'_

_'Yeah, I guess so.'_

_'What would make you say that?'_

_'Well... Hey, why are you asking me this? Shouldn't you be asking about the skeleton that your fiance found in limbo?'_

_'I can choose the line of questioning, Dr Hodgins. And I would like to know why you think your relationship with Angela is going well.'_

_'I guess... I guess you could say she's proved to me that she still loves me.'_

_'Wow, man! I mean, how did this occur?'_

_'I told her I still loved her, and regretted letting her go, and somehow we... I don't know.'_

_'So, you're in a relationship again?'_

_'You could say that.'_

_'Wait, is it more than that? Did you two sleep together.'_

_'Oh, yeah.'_

_'Did you make any rash proposals of love or commitment?'_

_'Definitely.'_

_'What did you do?'_

_'Oh, we got married.'

* * *

_

Why did people generally do the opposite of what I predicted? Perhaps I should purposefully make false predictions in order to create the affect that I want. It seems to work for Daisy. When I proposed, she was convinced that I was going to break up with her, and so, if you believe in the cosmic universe and fate and coincidences and all that jazz, I didn't. Perhaps if instead, she had known I was going to propose, I wouldn't have.

'Hey, Lancelot?' I had finally worked up the energy to go to bed, and Daisy had quickly taken the opportunity to hug me.

'Yeah?'

'Why do you get so distant when you're upset?'

'I'm not distant.'

'Yes, you are.' I rolled over to face her, and she laid a hand on my cheek.

'I'm not,' I said.

'You won't talk to me unless I start the conversation. You won't look at me unless I talk to you. You won't kiss me unless I kiss you first. From your books that I've read when I was bored, that is a very good idea of distant.'

'I'm sorry, Daisy.'

'I know you are. I just want to know _why.'_

'Why?'

'Yes, why?' She propped her head up on her elbow, looking at me.

'I guess," I said slowly, avoiding her gaze. 'I guess I think things through too much. I try to figure out where it went wrong.'

'And what went wrong here?'

'I expected everyone to be completely clean, and have no reason at all to hide that skeleton. But so far, everyone has a reason that they could have.'

'That's not your fault.'

'I know it isn't, but it pisses me off that even when it's not my fault, it will be my fault if they get convicted for concealing evidence or conspiring to conceal evidence.'

'Then just don't tell the cops.'

'I can't do that, Daisy! Then I could be tried for concealing evidence.'

'It's a paradox.' She laid back down, pulling the sheet up over her shoulder. 'Love you, Lancelot.'

Why did people always do the exact opposite of what I expected them to?

'Love you, too.'

* * *

_'Angela, Dr Hodgins said the two of you got married the other day.'_

_'We did.'_

_'Did you not think to inform anyone of this?'_

_'No one needed to know. And we were going to tell everyone eventually. Just not straight away.'_

_'Wouldn't it make sense to tell your friends and family that your husband is, in fact, your husband?'_

_'Eh, friends, yes. Family, not so much.'_

_'Why not?'_

_'You have met my dad, right?'_

_'Have you had parental issues all your life?'_

_'I love my dad!'_

_'But you are also scared to inform him of your marriage.'_

_'Yeah, to protect Hodgins! My dad doesn't like him. Ever since we broke up he has this notion that Jack is a heartbreaker, and I deserve better. I don't want to see Hodgins get hurt!'_

_'So you would lie to your own father that you were not married to protect your husband?'_

_'Yes!'

* * *

_

I walked into work the next morning with Daisy by my side. I was holding my interviews at the Jeffersonian, instead of the Hoover building, mainly because I liked it there. The Jeffersonian was where all my friends were. And Daisy was working too, and I wanted to spend time with her. I wanted to be less distant. I wanted to be like a fiance was supposed to be. Like Hodgins and Angela were.

Except when I got into the lab, Angela and Hodgins were acting as if they didn't know each other. They were on either side of the room, doing there own thing, only occaisonally glancing up at each other with knowing looks in their eyes.

I wandered over to question Hodgins on the matter.

'What's with you and Angela?'

'Nothing. Why do you always ask that?'

'Well, you're married, right?'

'Yeah,' he replied, taking a test tube from a rack and placing it in a machine. 'But that doesn't mean we have to spend every waking moment together.'

'You're avoiding her. Why?' I took a pen from his desk and spun it between my fingers absently.

'No reason.'

'They don't know, do they?'

'Um-'

'They don't know!' I placed the pen back down on the table. 'You haven't told anyone, and so you pretend nothing is different but everyone can tell something's changed between you. Daisy noticed it when we walked in. Holding hands, I might add. Because that's what couples do. They _hold hands._'

'You're supposed to be a psychologist, Sweets. Everyone shows they're emotions in different ways.'

I laughed. 'I wouldn't peg you as the kind of guy who wouldn't hold his wife's hand.'

'What kind of guy am I then?'

I paused, thinking. 'I think you're the kind of guy who does anything for her, just because she wants it, even if it has no benefit, or even negative effects for you. And that's why I think you could have hid the skeleton.'

* * *

_'Why are we doing this again, Sweets?'_

_'Because I didn't come to a conclusion the first time.'_

_'Why not?'_

_'Because I hadn't decided how far you'd go. I talked to Angela yesterday, and she said she'd do anything for you.'_

_'She did?'_

_'Yes, and I've decided you would do anything for her. Including hiding a skeleton.'_

_'So why am I here, if you've already decided.'_

_'Protocol, Dr Hodgins.'_

_'Protocol?'_

_'Yes. Would you or would you not hide a skeleton if your wife, Angela, were in danger?'_

_'It doesn't matter what I say, does it?'_

_'No.'_

_'Well, then, yes.'

* * *

_

I'd come to the conclusion that Booth could hide a skeleton. I'd come to the conclusion that Dr Brennan could hide a skeleton. I'd come to the conclusion that Angela and Hodgins could both hide a skeleton. My only problem with these results were that they were circumstantial.

And the only problem with that was that I had been told, by the authority figure, that even circumstantial evidence would count.

I didn't want to incriminate my friends! My friends were my friends! And I think there's some unwritten social rule that says friends don't send other friends to jail. Which I'm pretty sure is where the authority figure was trying to send them.

I needed some kind of result to go my way. Any kind of result. And I only had two interviews left.

* * *

_'Mr Vaziri, you're a muslim.'_

_'Yes.'_

_'People in this office have previously speculated as to the somewhat racist stereotype of "terrorist" and if it applies to you, have they not?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'How did that make you feel?'_

_'Maybe a little bit angry, I guess. But I know I'm not a terrorist. Allah is loving. The Imam's that convince terrorists to do what they do portray a twisted version of the Koran, which is unlike the true text. I have studied the Koran extensively.'_

_'You have?'_

_'Yes. I have read it many times.'_

_'What did you think of it? When you read it, I mean?'_

_'I found it very enlightening.'_

_'And would you die for your country?'_

_'Yes, if the right situations present themselves. Terrorism is not the right situation.'

* * *

_

'What have you found?' a woman's voice asked from the other end of my cellphone. The number was private, and I had only been given the information that this woman was in cahoots with the authority figure that approached me.

'Not much, yet,' I replied. 'I haven't finished my interviews. There's nothing conclusive so far.'

'Be quick, Dr Sweets. We need results fast.'

'I understand.' And the woman hung up. I placed my phone on my desk and called in the last person on my list.

* * *

_'Dr Saroyan, you have a daughter.'_

_'Yes. You know this, Dr Sweets.'_

_'I know. I was just clarifying for the record.'_

_'Right.'_

_'How long have you known Michelle?'_

_'I lived with her for two years when she was four, and adopted her a year ago.'_

_'But you did not see her during the times in between.'_

_'I again, must point out that you already know this.'_

_'Just answer the question for the record, please, Dr Saroyan.'_

_'No, I did not have contact with my daughter for ten years.'_

_'But despite this, you would kill for Michelle, right?'_

_'If you're saying that in the way that I would protect her to the best of my ability, then yes.'_

_'Would you hide a skeleton for her?'_

_'If, somehow she was connected to a skeleton, and it seemed as if she would be convicted, and I knew she was innocent, yes, I would hide a skeleton for her.'_

_'Thank you.'

* * *

_

'Daisy, I have a problem,' I asked, pulling her into my office.

'What is it, Lancelot?'

'Everybody's been cooperative.'

'Isn't that a good thing?'

'Yes. Except the people who asked me to do this said that I only had to prove that in the right circumstances, these people would hide the skeleton.' I collapsed onto the sofa, and Daisy gently sat down beside me.

'And they all would, right?'

'Yeah.' I ran a hand through my hair, trying to release my frustration. 'What am I supposed to do, Daisy? I can't turn over my friends! I have a really bad feeling that these people will send them to jail if they get the chance.'

'Tell them no.' She made it sound so simple. It wasn't simple. Not at all.

'I can't do that. That would be lying to a government institution, and I could get arrested.'

'You don't know it's a government institution. From my knowledge of the law, if they don't announce themselves and their organisation, you can refuse to give information.'

'Really?'

She nodded. 'Really, really.'

'Oh, God, Daisy. I love you.'

She grinned, shrugging her shoulders. 'I know.'

* * *

'What have you got, Dr Sweets.'

'Nothing.'

'What do you mean, "nothing"? You've conducted interviews with your workmates, yes? You have determined whether or not they are capable of hiding a skeleton.'

'Yes, I have. But I've got nothing to tell you.'

'You are required to tell me. You agreed.'

'I did, but I didn't sign a contract. A verbal contract does not hold up in a court of law.'

'It does on Judge Judy, Dr Sweets.'

I laughed. 'Everyone knows that's a fictional show.'

'Are you telling me that you _refuse _to give evidence in this matter.'

'Yes. You shouldn't have asked me to interview my workmates anyway. I'm too close to them. They're my friends. I can't incriminate my friends.'

On the other end of the phone line, there was no answer.

* * *

'I'm proud of you, Lancelot.'

Daisy and I were lying in bed again, but this time, I was definitely not being distant.

'About which part?'

'Which part do you think?'

'I was thinking the sex, but I assume you were thinking standing up to the woman on the other end of the phone.'

She laughed, burying her head further into my chest. The feel of her hair on my skin was soothing. 'I was thinking of the sex, too.'

I grinned, and kissed the top of her head. She raised her eyes to meet mine and kissed me on the lips.

'Sometimes, Daisy. You make my day.'

'Sometimes, Lance, you make my day, too.'

* * *

Thanks for reading! This is set approximately between The Witch In The Wardrobe and The Boy In The Answer, which was when I wrote it as well. Hope you liked it.

Wynnie


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